Every poet is at heart an anarchist, but his vocation bids him be a transcendental one, perceiving that sympathy is stronger than violence, and the seed that bursts unseen and silently is a more formidable engine than the bomb. Alistair found in the proletarian propaganda, so far as it had come under his notice, a leaven of envy and hatred of the best. The spirit of Marat’s bloody apostolate lurked under words like brotherhood and humanity. It was not only against the rich and the tyrannical that the red flag waved; it menaced equally knowledge and genius. Archimedes would fare no better at such hands than he had fared at the hands of the soldier of Marcellus. The policy of these helot Tarquins was to strike down the tall flowers of the garden, roses and nettles together. His three months’ sojourn in Beers Cooperage had taught Alistair that he could not really be the brother of his humble neighbours. He was not nearer to them in spirit than if he were dwelling in Colonsay House. He was too kind-hearted not to wish to befriend them, but he could only do so as he befriended children and animals--without feeling himself as one of them. His common sense, or, what is the same thing, his sense of humour, saved him from trying to elevate them by means of wireless telegraphy and the Andaman Islands. The simple truth was that he no more wanted to change their natures than to change his own. He was that rare thing, an individualist who respected the individuality of others. He was the only person who had ever bestowed money in the Cooperage without asking whether it was to be spent on tea or on beer. In his mother’s opinion he was doing harm to the neighbourhood. Among the beneficiaries a suspicion had begun to germinate that he must have his eye on a seat in the County Council. His favourite manifestation of interest was to call in passing organ-grinders, who played in the Cooperage by the hour together, while the children danced. Alistair could make his poor neighbours happy, but they could not make him happy. The poet searching for his Eden places it ever in some environment which he has not yet tried. Whole generations of priest-ridden Italians had placed the home of freedom in Puritan-ridden England; it was natural that Alistair should place it in Papal Rome.